


Bane

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-29 19:47:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21415681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Glorfindel wakes Erestor up.
Relationships: Erestor/Glorfindel (Tolkien)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	Bane

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, The Silmarillion, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Glorfindel has many grand feats to his name, some of which have even made it into song, but he currently considers his greatest achievement to be his friendship with Erestor. It was incredibly hard earned, requiring a plethora of skills that took far longer to hone than his efforts with a blade. There were many obstacles in his path, including his own bumbling tongue, and at one point, they seemed insurmountable. But he’s finally reached the point where Erestor will not only give him the time of day, but share breakfast with him in the mornings. Last week, he reached an even great milestone—_permission to enter Erestor’s quarters without knocking._

Glorfindel treasures this. Someday, he will achieve an even greater accomplishment—Erestor standing beneath the altar with him, hand in hand. But that is a long way off yet. Glorfindel has lived longer than any other in Imladris, and he’s willing to wait longer if he must. For this, he’ll be patient. 

Unfortunately, the last two times he came too early, Erestor had shoed him out. The permission was not revoked, but nor was Glorfindel permitted to wait while he changed inside his bathing chambers. Glorfindel dearly hopes today will be different.

Except when he steps inside, smoothly calling, “Good morning,” Erestor shoots up in bed, looking just as ruffled as the last few days. His hair’s as adorably mussed as it always seems to be in the mornings, before he’s had a chance to meticulously brush it. His shoulders are bare—it seems that he sleeps _naked_, to Glorfindel’s eternal delight. But he has the blankets snatched around his chest, hiding it, which Glorfindel doesn’t understand. Erestor’s cheeks are even flushed, which Glorfindel has only ever seen in this context. Usually, Erestor is impenetrable. There is no embarrassing him. Yet he clutches the sheets around himself as though scandalized. It’s true that Glorfindel has never seen Erestor’s body bare, but Erestor has certainly seen him naked—entirely naked—and it seems strange for the favour not to be returned.

Because this is the third encounter, Glorfindel dares to ask, “What are you hiding?”

Erestor’s sharp features pinch together in a warning. The fact that he doesn’t outright deny it tells Glorfindel that there is indeed something going on. Glorfindel presses, “If you have some sort of scar, or was born with a different body than you think I expect, I will not judge you for it. Neither will dampen your beauty to me.”

Erestor’s nose scrunches. He shakes his head and sighs, “It is not that.”

“Then what is it? You have me worried.”

Erestor looks at him for a long moment, as though daring him to back down, but he doesn’t. Eventually, Erestor hangs his head. A second later, he tosses it back, rolling his eyes. He lowers the blanket with an aggravated grunt. Glorfindel has to instantly control his laughter.

Someone has painted a large, hairy cock across Erestor’s breast. Glorfindel has to shoot his hand over his mouth to hold back his reaction.

“The twins were displeased with me,” Erestor wryly mutters. “I was foolish enough to fall asleep in the pool last week, and though I did not wake in time to catch them, I am sure it is them who I have to blame. They were wise to ride out on patrol the next morning, before I was able to show them my wrath.”

“When they return, I will avenge you, if you wish,” Glorfindel offers. He loves Elladan and Elrohir dearly, but he won’t allow them to ruin his quest for Erestor’s love. Erestor shakes his head. 

“I will punish them myself. In the meantime, this infernal drawing simply will _not_ come off.”

“Clearly we must scrub at it harder,” Glorfindel suggests. Erestor flatly stares at him.

Then Erestor begrudgingly agrees, “Very well. You may assist me. Perhaps the strength of your arms will prove more than mine.”

Glorfindel salutes, willing to try his best, and not only to ensure that Erestor no longer hides such a gorgeous body.


End file.
